Ivana Krum
by Slytherin Buttercat
Summary: Viktor Krum's daughter starts at Durmstrang


**Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Round 11**

 **As Chaser 3 I had to pick a magical object, and my chosen object was a Viktor Krum Action Figure.**

 **Prompts:  
** **1\. (dialogue) "I'm bored. Play with me!"  
** **8.** **(word) bounce  
** **13\. (setting) Durmstrang**

 **I also have to start and finish with the same word. That word is 'bashta', the word for father in Bulgarian. (Ivana is Bulgarian).**

 **With the idea that the school is in Russia, the names of the Houses are in Russian. Druzhba—friendship. Sem'ya—family. (because we don't know where Durmstrang is, or how people are sorted.)**

 **I used Google Translate for the words so if anything is wrong blame that.**

 **Word Count: 1853**

 **Thanks to my beautiful beta Ever**

* * *

"Bashta, a lot has happened since I last spoke to you," Ivana says. She's talking to the action figure in her hand (the one that the magic's almost completely drained out of, no longer allowing it to move other than to occasionally blink—but Ivana secretly prefers it that way). "I'm finally at Durmstrang. I met this girl called Nikolina today—she's kind of annoying, but really nice at the same time. Mama said you were in Druzhba, but she said you wouldn't care which house I was in."

Ivana twirls a strand of dark hair around her finger and nervously says, "I'm in Sem'ya. Mama says Sem'ya is the house that she wanted, but she didn't care enough about her family at the time. She was sorted into Druzhba, which was better for her because she discovered friendship was more important to her. Mama _is_ very sociable. She has so many friends, but I know that she misses you, no matter how much she tries to cover it with every new friendship.

"I'm not surprised that I'm in Sem'ya, if I'm honest," she continues saying to the solitary action figure. "I miss you a lot, Bashta, and you were only alive for a few years of my life. After all, you died in that Quidditch incident when I was only three. I know you'll be disappointed in me, but I never want to play Quidditch. I'm afraid that dying in Quidditch incidents could run in the family..."

Ivana places the figure on the end table beside her as she settles down under the covers. The plastic Krum blinks his eyes. "It's getting late now, so goodnight, Bashta. Wish me luck for tomorrow—it's my first day of classes!"

* * *

The first thing Ivana hears in the morning is an irritating knocking. Sharp and loud, it's far too early in the morning for such a rude awakening. To her horror, an even sharper and more annoying voice bellows, "Oi, Krum, get up!"

"Leave me alone," Ivana mumbles, turning around in her sleep. Her eyelids feel heavy as she nestles further down into the covers.

"Ivana! You can't get a detention on the first day."

Ivana reluctantly opens an eye, peering, in disgust, at her closed door. She swears that she remembers that voice… "Nikolina, is that you? At my door?"

"Yeah. So what? You have to get up—to make it to Traditionalism Class on time."

"How do you know what I have?" Ivana asks, as she emits a weary sigh and finally forces herself out of bed. She fumbles for her robes—she neatly laid them out on her chair the night before. "Even _I_ don't know what I have!"

Nikolina's harrowing voice continues to assault Ivana's ears from just behind the door. "Professor Ivanov told me to take your schedule to you. Besides, we have the same classes."

Ivana finishes putting on her robes, stuffs her Viktor Krum action figure in her pocket, and pulls open the door. Nikolina is already dressed, of course, looking far too orderly and bright-eyed for such an early morning. "Why did she send _you_ , Nikolina?" Ivana demands, not caring if she comes across rude. "Why not somebody who would probably wake me up gentler?"

Despite Ivana's sharp tongue, the other girl is un-swayed, as annoyingly chirpy as she'd appeared the day before when Ivana had first met her. "Because I was the last one out. Come on, we have to get to Traditionalism!" With a noticeable look of disgust, Nikolina peers down at Ivana and her hasty attempt at getting ready. "But only after you straighten your robes. I'm not being seen with you like that! Mother says that messy robes are the first step to a messy life, and I don't want it rubbing off on me."

Ivana rolls her eyes but does what Nikolina says anyway. This girl seems alright—she knows all of the pure-blood traditions, and Ivana's mother tells her that the first step to a good life is by making friends with as many pure-bloods as she can (it helps that only pure-bloods are accepted to Durmstrang). Her father probably would have disapproved, Ivana thinks—for he was quite infatuated with Muggle-borns when he was younger (from what she's heard)—but Ivana just wants to make her mother proud. Her mother's pride, after all, is the best thing she can strive for.

Ivana suddenly realises something. "Wait, Nikolina! What about breakfast?"

"We're too late. We both slept in." Nikolina grins—a sort of overeager, almost sadistic grin, which greatly unnerves Ivana. "It's too late for breakfast now!"

* * *

It appears that everyone wants to be best friends with the famous Viktor Krum's daughter. Ivana doesn't like that kind of attention—she never has. She misses the peace of her home, where the only time it was hectic was at Christmas when her mother's family came to see them.

After classes she hides out in her dorm, waiting for the fuss around her to die down. She does her homework, reads her textbooks, and writes letters to her family. She quickly comes to realise that it's far safer in her dorm.

Nikolina is the only person she lets anywhere near her, although even that hardly happens. Annoying though she may be (and far too enthusiastic in the mornings), she's alright really. When she's not alone, Ivana finds herself spending practically all her time with Nikolina. They sit together in classes and during meals, and Nikolina sometimes even visits Ivana in her dorm. She prefers it that way. Friendship isn't that important to her anyway; not like it is to her mother.

Being away from home is painful. Ivana misses her mother so much, but it's unavoidable. She has to go to school, of course. She has to learn. She finds herself subconsciously squeezing the action figure in her pocket for reassurance.

It's what her father would have wanted.

* * *

Nikolina's bouncing on her toes in the doorway. Ivana rolls her eyes, hating when her friend gets like this. She has so much energy, it's unreal, and Ivana often struggles to keep up with her exuberant pace. She much prefers the solitude of the library or her dorm room—where she can study, or read, or talk to her father.

"Come on, Ana," Nikolina insists. "You know you want to!"

But Ivana's chest constricts, and her throat is suddenly dry. She forces the words out anyway. "I don't want to go outside, Nikki. I'm not in the mood for everyone staring at me." It's a more convincing lie than the truth. And anyhow, it's not a complete lie. Time may have passed but people _did_ still stare at her. Ivana had somewhat come to accept that she'd always be stared at, for she'd always be Viktor Krum's daughter—and really, she was proud of that.

"But I'm bored. Play with me! Please?"

Nikolina's blue eyes have a pleading glint in them. Ivana feels her heart soften ever so slightly and sighs. "Fine," she concedes, knowing the other girl will only be persistent if she continues to refuse.

"Yay!" Nikolina exclaims, giving another little bounce.

Minutes later, and they're stood by the lake, Ivana pulling her fur robe tightly around her body. It's only September, but the temperature is extortionately cold. Bitingly cold wind whips against Ivana's exposed face, leaving it red and almost raw. It's a wonder the lake hasn't frozen over.

"Why are we here, Nikki?" Ivana demands, craving the warmth of Durmstrang's interior.

"We're going to play!"

"By the lake? What if one of us falls in?"

Nikolina rolls her eyes, as jovial as ever. "Then we'll get wet," she says impatiently. "It'll be fun, Ana. Come on!"

Ivana slips her hand into her pocket, touching the action figure for reassurance. Her father wouldn't want her to be miserable, she reminds herself. He wouldn't want her to shut herself off from the world—to isolate herself from friendship, from _fun._ Suddenly, the world doesn't seem all that cold. She offers her overexcited friend a genuine smile. "Okay," she says.

Nikolina is beaming from ear to ear. "Great!"

* * *

"A lot of things have happened since I last spoke to you," Ivana says, hugging her action figure close to her. "I've made a new friend—Nikolina, the girl I told you about before. She's nice. Kind of pushy, but that's one of the best things about her. She helped me realise that hiding away all the time isn't the best thing to do. It's not my fault I'm the daughter of a famous Quidditch player, after all, and it's not yours either, Bashta, even though _you're_ said Quidditch player!

"I've made another friend too. His name is Alexei. I know what fathers are like—my friend got a letter from her dad telling her to be careful of boys. I wish you were still alive, so that you could tell me off for speaking to boys... Just think: you would embarrass me so much! It's ridiculous, I know, but I'd just be so happy if you were here to be overprotective of me every time a boy dares to even look in my direction..."

Ivana hastily wipes a tear away.

"It's crazy that I miss you even though I never really met you. That's the worst part. Everyone talks about how great their fathers are, but I don't have any memories of mine. This Norwegian boy has _two_ fathers, which is totally unfair! Although, he hasn't got any mothers, I suppose, and I couldn't live without Mama." She sighs. "But at least he has two living parents.

"I'm not blaming you for getting into the Quidditch accident; it's not your fault you died. Someone hit that Bludger too hard and it hit you in the back of your head. Mama says your last words were spoken to one of the Chasers: 'No matter what happens, focus on getting the Quaffle into the hoops.' They didn't obey you—because you fell from your broom. The game was called off—because you were dead. The Bulgarian Captain was dead..."

Ivana wipes away another tear, but after taking a shaky breath, she's smiling to herself. "It makes me feel better—talking about it, you know? Mama never really discussed it. Your death hurt her too much. I'm not surprised, really—you were her life. When you died, she would have fallen into a dark hole if it weren't for me. I'm the one who saved her. She dedicated her life to raising me, and soon she began going out again, making new friends. She lived her life."

Ivana pauses for a while, staring down into the solitary plastic face of the father she barely knew. Even though it isn't possible, she almost thinks she sees it smile. Perhaps it's just the lighting in her room, but there's an almost proud glint in his eyes.

She gives the figure one final loving squeeze. "It's getting late now, and I have to get up early. I love you, and I miss you. I won't forget to make you proud, Bashta."

* * *

 **Gringotts Prompt Bank**

 **Dr. Horrible— (dialogue) "(name), is that you?", (action) knowing someone's schedule,**

 **September Event: Back to School Teamwork Event: (emotion) excited, (word) breakfast**


End file.
